This would have been a very touching story if my father loved me. But it won’t be, because my father didn’t give a fuck about me. It had always hurt to see my father clean his guns over and over again yet not turning to ask how I was doing, not helping me clean my wounds, not caring at all for me. So, I got used to it, I’m used to his indifference, and I try not to care anymore. When I found myself gagged and kidnapped, then woke up in a beautiful place with gorgeous men who intended to use me to get something from my dad, I wondered how this would end. Even though I knew my father didn’t give a shit about me, a tiny light of hope was rekindled inside of me, maybe, just maybe my father cared. Even if it was a little. I had been kidnapped by the Dos Santos brothers. Funny name. It was Spanish and it meant two saints but the brothers were three not two. Shouldn’t that be three saints Tres Santos? Funny Are you wondering why a kidnapped girl isn’t having fearful thoughts? I’m wonderi
Last Updated : 2023-09-15 Read more